


Remiss IN/About/Around

by Basic_instinct40



Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Drug Use, Kinda, M/M, Prose Poem, Theo POV, They make me wanna write poems, another one, grammar who?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 16:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21323521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basic_instinct40/pseuds/Basic_instinct40
Summary: No, this is real.
Relationships: Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Remiss IN/About/Around

**Author's Note:**

> Another poem no one ask for.  
You look like you been for breakfast at the Heartbreak Hotel

Your biggest worry—and there are too many to count—is that when you die  
An angel will take your hand and point at your life, perhaps the second after you touched the painting and say, “There you are, the unreliable narrator.”  
The angel, whose face will be smudged and out of focus like so much of your life has been, will then touch your mouth and say “Nothing spills from this, but lies.”  
Your hands will form a fist, your chewed-down nails will bite into your flesh, you shut your eyes to more things you don't want to see  
It’s a nightmare, you tell yourself, it’s another one of my nightmares  
The angel—can we still call it an angel—will shake you, Hard  
“No, this is real. This is consequence.”

How can you tell the angel you needed life to feel like what your Mother made it feel like, to feel like what being drunk feels like, at least that first drink, that desire for life, for more, you couldn't get it up for life organically, you needed assistance

And no one ever got that  
Not in the circles you ran in or invaded  
The perfect places you made yourself fit in  
A square peg in those perfect circles  
I needed assistance to feel the desire to live, to breathe, to love someone I thought I should, to forget, but most of all  
To remember  
I needed to remember, angel

Unreliable narrator—Unreliable son—Unreliable lover—

Unbearable me

You feel the tap, tap, tap, tap, of the angel’s cold fingers, they feel familiar  
“Wake up Potter” the angel says,  
You're dreaming  


**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think.


End file.
